In the burning ruins of an ancient city, Ragnar Lothbrok's eldest son with his second wife Aslaug, Ubbe, found one lone survivor. A young girl. A girl with deep and dark and red eyes, and hair black as night with a single streak of white.
"Aila." Ha...
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"He is the strongest, most violent man I have ever known. He is crazy, and I am frightened of him."
Aila enjoyed the silence. Aila enjoyed the safety and the warmth of Ivar's arms. Aila loved being in Ivar's arms in the silence of the night.
She lied on her back while he lied on his side, one arm under her smaller frame with one arm above her belly. "What is on your mind?"
She had been staring straight into thin air for an eternity by now. "Nothing." Said Bloodeye softly, and chillingly emotionlessly.
"I felt you stiffen hours ago." Boneless said. "You still haven't relaxed." He opened his eyes and found her staring up. "Something is wrong, tell me what."
Aila blinked. Her eyes were void of all emotion, almost like the eyes of a clueless little child staring at something that confused them. She took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for whatever would come as a result of what she about to ask.
"Aila-"
"What did you do to Margrethe?"
Ivar frowned.
Bloodeye turned her head to the side and met his bright blue eyes. "She is terrified of you." Aila shifted so that she lied on her side. She rested her head on her forearm. "What did you do?"
Ivar did not meet her red orbs. "I didn't know you cared about her." He mumbled quietly.
"I don't." Emphasized Aila with raised brows. "But I care about Ubbe, and I care about Hvitserk. And they love her." Ivar's eyes darkened. "And I love them. For their sake and for their happiness, I want to keep her safe. She is your sister by marriage now, Ivar, you should, too."
"There is nothing to know." His voice was bone chillingly cold. "Now leave it."
"Ivar."
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